Write When You Can't Write

I can't write on this crap. I read the last posts I wrote and they're boring. My creative use of language is gone and it takes me twice as long to write anything and then it stinks. The only part I liked at all was the very end of the last post. When I am myself, and not being drugged, I write fast, freely, and it's interesting. I don't have to labor over writing, ever, when I'm not drugged.

As I'm quite sure my parents are involved in this, as is the Wonderful Doctor Freed (run for your life), and plenty of others I've angered, I am considering adding True Tales about my family to this blog, er..."rant" as the red-faced angry counselor called it at the hospital. Funny how a counselor can yell at someone they're claiming is mentally ill and should be drugged. If I'm really mentally ill, why be mad at me for what I write? If you don't like what I write, start up your own counter-blog. Which is what most of these people should be doing, instead of bullying others with medications. I feel like I'm in a concentration camp in my own country. I thought there were laws against this kind of thing--boy was I wrong.

It's political and this is the shittiest thing that's ever happened to me, but it's another chapter and experience, and what others do to me out of selfish motivations, I can still turn around for good. The most important thing is to be accurate and write well while I'm in the chemical restraints, to document this experience. Everything in life can be a lesson, even when you suffer because of others. If people want to beat you down and outnumber you, the only thing one can do is to take names and try to remember the details, for the future sketch. Write everything down and keep it. Dates, times, feelings, experiences, names, affiliations, expressions...It will come in handy at a later date.

I think of Frida. If I have a saint, Frida is the one for me. The Artistic Saint of Suffering.